NOVEL NEXT Chapter 33: Fists of Fury
The silence was taut with nothing but the howling wind that whistled around them like a mournful spirit. Vacuros shifted into a fighting stance, his huge frame coiled in readiness, as the primordial ape just stood firm, its gaze dismissive, like that of a man humoring a child's fanciful dream. Nyxander took several deliberate steps back, his hands folded, his piercing gaze cutting through the swirling cold like a blade, watching the scene unfold as though it were an experiment under his scrutiny.
Vacuros charged forward, his feet carving deep grooves into the thick snow with every determined step. As the distance between him and the ape of origin shortened, the monster sprang forward, his enormous mass casting a shadow over the field of combat. The two met, their palms clashing with the sound of thunder as their arms interlocked in a gruesome display of strength.
Vacuros clenched his teeth as his torso began to give way to the ape's brute strength. Before he could react, the primordial ape wrenched its right hand free, its massive arm swinging back with a swift precision like a bowstring snapping taut. Its punch struck Vacuros's temple like a hammer to an anvil, sending him somersaulting backward. He crashed into the thick snow, his enormous body half-buried under the icy blanket.
"Rrrroarrr!" The primordial ape roared, its guttural cry shattering the icy stillness, the very air shaking under its power. Vacuros clawed his way out of the snow and stumbled to his feet, his gaze darting at Nyxander, who was standing motionless, feigning indifference. Anger flared in Vacuros's eyes as he darted toward the ape once more.
As the gap closed, the beast swung its mighty arm, but Vacuros whipped his body around like a leaf torn from its branch in a gale, avoiding the blow. Sliding to the left with the smooth ease of an ice-skater, he plunged his fist into the ape's chest; the impact boomed like the beat of a drum, partly lifting the beast off the ground and sending it skidding backward on its back.
Nyxander's eyes widened in surprise, his voice barely above a whisper. "Indeed, that is impressive strength." The slow nod he gave his head was laced with quiet admiration. Seizing the moment, Vacuros leaped high into the air, his massive shadow falling across the prone beast below. He landed with a heavy thud on its abdomen, the frozen ground beneath them fracturing like fragile glass under the impact. With his left hand clutched in the fur of the ape, Vacuros showered its face with punches, each strike landing square like a blacksmith hammer.
"Grooo… Grooo…" The primordial ape groaned, small and pitiful, but with an air of pride. Just as Vacuros was about to land the sixth punch, the beast seized his fist in its left iron vice-like hand. With a pull, it wrung Vacuros's grip from its head. Vacuros resisted with all of his might against the beast's overpowering strength, but he was completely hopeless.
The ape seized both of his hands in one huge grasp and brought them aloft. It then summoned every last bit of its energy and planted a thunderous slap into the abdomen of Vacuros, sending him flying through the air. He hit the ground hard, his feet sliding across the ice as he struggled for balance.
The ape stood and began to radiate pure, uncontained anger in its eyes now. This time, it took to the initiative and launched into the air with outstretched arms, like some sort of predator falling upon its prey. Vacuros would not back down and leaped higher than he previously had, ignoring his limitations. Midair, with a meteoric force and his fists together, he got him on the head, pushing it into the ground like some kind of falling star with enough force to shake the earth like an earthquake.
From the sidelines, Nyxander nodded; he was hardly containing an excited scientists-on-the-verge-of-discovery fervor. "So that is the unique ability of his suit," he muttered in a fascinated tone. His suit, Nullpoint, in its usual monotone voice, easily distinguishable even through the fabric: "What do you mean by that?"
Nyxander turned and replied calmly, "His suit absorbs all forms of energy and amplifies Vacuros's attacks."
Meanwhile, the primeval ape stood once more, its rage building into a tempest. Its glowing white eyes blazed like twin moons in the darkness. Vacuros, drunk on his own strength, charged forward to end the fight. But before he could strike, the beast let out an earsplitting scream. "Rrrroarrr!" The sound tore through the air like a sonic wave, its high frequency forcing Vacuros to cover his ears in agony. Even Nyxander winced, his composure momentarily faltering. The roar's sheer force tossed Vacuros aside, his body carving a trench in the snow.
Undeterred, Vacuros pointed his index and middle fingers toward the beast's shoulder as he rose, determination blazing in his eyes. "Lexis Severance: Void Disruption," he intoned, his voice steady and commanding. Since his breakthrough to the Ascendant Realm, the void ability had awakened within him, allowing him to manipulate the fabric of space like a tailor cutting cloth.
The air above the ape's shoulder began to tear like parchment, but as the cut reached its target, it barely grazed the beast's flesh. Vacuros grimaced, still grappling with the technique's limitations. The wound sealed almost instantly, and the ape roared a second time, hurling Vacuros once more.
This time, the beast charged forward, diving toward the fallen Vacuros with its massive body poised to crush him. But before it could land, Nyxander leaped into the air, striking the ape mid-dive. His blow landed with precise force on its ribcage, sending it flipping sideways and crashing into the ground with a thunderous impact.
Nyxander came up to Vacuros and extended his hand. "You have proven yourself. Now, let's finish this together," he said, his voice ringing with the authority of a battlefield general rallying his troops. Vacuros stared at him for a moment before taking his hand. Nyxander pulled him up, and together they turned to face the primordial ape. The tension thickened around them, pulsing like the beat of war drums heralding an impending clash.